


A good disguise

by Level_Nightmare



Series: Higgs delivery service [3]
Category: Death Stranding (Video Games)
Genre: Anal Fisting, Anal Gaping, Anal Prolapse, Anal Sex, Creampie, Gangbang, Humiliation, M/M, Multi, Object Insertion, Scat, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:26:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22266343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Level_Nightmare/pseuds/Level_Nightmare
Summary: Still wearing his disguise as a Bridges warehouse worker, Higgs keeps thinking about Sam after leaving him a very special package but, being unable to get his hands on him, he has fun with his Homo Demens
Relationships: Higgs Monaghan/Demens, Sam Porter Bridges/Higgs Monaghan
Series: Higgs delivery service [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1604695
Kudos: 34





	A good disguise

**Author's Note:**

> Dear reader, I apologize in advance for the inevitable mistakes that you will find in this story: unfortunately English is not my first language and I helped myself with an online translator. Please keep this in mind and I hope you enjoy reading it as I enjoyed writing it!

Appropriating a Bridges uniform had been easier than expected but being able to keep the right cold blood by being so close to Sam was another matter entirely.

The worst thing, he suspected, would have been the smell. The smell he had previously felt and that without the mask, he knew, would have been more penetrating, acrid, more pungent.

A stench of perspiration and fatigue, something so unbearably exciting that already in that fleeting encounter it had made it difficult for him not to tear off his mask, throw himself on his knees and suck his cock until an untold amount of hot sperm came to his face, down into his throat, filling him up, filling his hungry stomach.

But no, that time he had resisted.

While returning to his obedient soldiers in black uniforms he feels the satisfaction of having resisted once again, even if the idea of being next to Sam Bridges wearing only that stupid warehouse suit and that stupid, stupid hat with those ridiculous headphones made his knees tremble with the desire to be harshly fucked from behind by anything with the right shape. Anything, shit, an electric generator would have suited well if only he could get it into his ass. Just put a pcc up his filthy butthole and wait to get impaled whimpering and begging to allow him to cum. Electrifying.

His return to the Demens camp, south of Mountain Knot City, was announced by the brief dry noise, like something that tears or breaks, a noise known to all patrol soldiers armed to the teeth, immobilized with the grass up to the knee to locate their leader.

"Boys, dad is home!" he raises his voice to make himself heard and his long, slender figure clashes terribly with that shiny blue suit in the middle of that dangerous outpost of furious fools.

Two of his men approach him and he, with the carelessness of a princess visiting the plebs, parades towards the large tent in which supplies of various sizes are stored.

Higgs is quite certain of the success of his plan: Sam seemed completely unable to recognize him but even to look him in the face and he was really too shrewd, his way of moving, of keeping his head tilted forward and his shoulders slightly curved to mystify the rather distinctive height. He was too smart, Sam too stupid. Just this thought caused him an annoying erection for the duration of the operation, let alone smelling Bridges' male stench, not to mention the idea of his hands on him if Sam recognized him: surely he would have forced him suffer a humiliating sexual coupling, perhaps in front of everyone. Deliciously disgusting.

Sure. Higgs smiles to himself following the wave of that unhealthy fantasy and absolutely disconnected from reality: most likely Sam would have tried to split his face with a suitcase full of ceramics but make his relational incapacity less boring and lying to himself has always been his natural talent together with that of enjoying on bigger and bigger cocks and performing increasingly disgusting acts with his crazy partners.

Even now that Sam is far away, he continued to fantasize about him, feeling his cock wet and hard and the throbbing and drenched butthole in need of being severely filled under Bridges' belt, feeling the heavy wheezes of the Demens behind him more and more desirable.

As he walks in direction of the tent he decides to deviate towards one of the trucks where a dozen of his boys are stopping with their guns slung over their shoulders. He smiles, approaching, his hands resting negligently on the belt and it is an exchange without words what happens between them: now they are used to it, the boss is the boss and when there is that look between them it is as if a perfect gear was being activated, as if all the small parts started to turn in perfect concert, well lubricated and obedient.

His males. His males full of sperm and eager to mount him.

Their games, moreover, have always served everyone to release the stress before or after an attack, so it was to be expected that Higgs would return with his cock pulled and his ass already hot, ready to be opened.

The two men behind grab firmly by the arms and dragging him to the ground, on his knees: something unimaginable outside their "games" but which, when it happens, is perfect.

An outside observer would stare astonished at what is happening and wonder with dismay how that poor Bridges warehouse worker ended up in a Demens camp and what they will do with him.

The answer to the last question could come promptly: while two soldiers keep him on the ground, even with rifles pointed at the head, the others begin to offer him substantial cocks to be taken in his mouth.

Perhaps our external observer might at this point ask himself why, even before realizing the situation, that warehouse worker is already sucking them in turn drooling and panting, two at a time, almost inviting them angrily to close around him in a circle so as not to let them cool down nobody.

Higgs likes the idea of doing it in an open area where anyone could see him, on his knees sucking cocks. In his stupid Demens head there is the idea of Sam Bridges' cock for days now and it is difficult to continue to carry out his role as an Extinctive Agent when you can not think of anything else and you can only masturbate inside your pants, rubbing on any surface it lends itself.

So he uses his Demens, His mating males, his men with huge balls always full of hot cum with which to fill his guts. Only cocks and armor. More comfortable. Safer.

His mouth knows how to do his job and soon the men around him begin to get under him, to demand attention, to pushing each other to stick it in his throat, often in two at a time, coming to cause him involuntary vomiting that increase the amount of slime it went up into his mouth. The liquid trickles down his chin, down his throat, slips on the lapel of the waterproof suit while the other soldiers demand his attention, they begin to tug him for those stupid headphones around his neck making him turn with his head and poke their cocks again in his mouth.

It does not take long for someone to start coming to his face or directly into his throat, sometimes forcing him to back down and cough but thus discontenting those who are still on fire.

According to the timing of the Demens, it is time to tear off that ridiculous warehouse worker's suit and risk an outburst if the boss had planned to reuse it in the future. They use knives to rip off it without much practicality, literally tearing it apart like they were unwrapping a soft plastic packaging, revealing the bare and sweaty skin, leaving only cutouts on the shoulders and under the knees, the boots and, obviously the headphones and that idiot hat whose visor dangle long sticky threads of warm semen from.

Having so many men at your command is also interesting for these events and Higgs is more than thrilled to be tugging and fixing just like he was that stupid warehouse worker who ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time. Brutal hands make him lift his head and someone sticks his cock up his throat again, thick and gloved fingers of plastic and reinforcements of chiralium shake his cock and get into his extremely wide butthole, widening it without difficulty to expose his dirty, warm bowels to their little assembly, evaluate above average size, excessive lubrication, begin to penetrate it as if they were sticking their fingers into a mud puddle.

He begins to moan like a beast in heat, going from one cock to another while behind them they start to fuck him violently, alternating quickly for brutal quickies that fill him and red his pale buttocks.

He wants to wear himself out among them and soon finds himself covered in semen while his Demens increasingly charged and increasingly brutal, rub the shiny dickheads on his nipples from which hang chiral rings, push the cocks against his face often ejaculating before putting on his mouth. At that point he went from being on all fours like a riding beast to being literally lying on the back of the van, his bare back on the rusty floor and his knees pressed against his chest to show the obscenely enlarged and leaking asshole. They mock him and put their fingers in his filthy shattered hole, someone decides to stick the rifle barrel in it, moving it back and forth until he comes screaming, splashes in his face black and oily liquid that seems to start a real frenzy mating.

Pure Chiralium what he has in his body, something that sends the fragile minds of the Demens into raptures, drives them mad.

They crowd around him, collecting that liquid in handfuls, they spread it on the cocks and masks that cover their face, starting to fuck him without giving him respite while he seems overwhelmed by the delusion and the need to take, take, take again.

After having gone through it several times and having literally filled his entrails with semen so much that it swollen his belly deliciously, his men decide to enjoy the last steps of their game, the ones he prefers, widening his ass that is now shamefully open, exposing it to the cold foothills air, vulgarly commenting on how they can plug it now that it no longer holds shit and cum in any way and how, with that broken ass he seemed even more stupid than before.

Higgs enjoys hearing them discuss about his ass like this, as if he wasn't there, he enjoys feeling like a stupid Bridges warehouse worker buggered by the Demens because he was so idiotic as to get lost in those woods, he enjoys being the leader of the Demens who likes get his intestines broken thinking how nice it would be if Sam Bridges did that service dreaming of being abandoned in public with something huge, like a fire extinguisher, stuck up his demens ass.

He shakes under their hands and those same hands, heavy, gloved, spank him forcefully as if he were a rebellious boy. Then someone stands right in front of him, as if he were about to start fucking again but, as is evident to everyone, he would not even feel the cocks by now and nobody wants to put it in that dripping and infected overflowing sewer anymore. So the most daring of the group puts four fingers inside his ass, spreads it as if he were looking for something in a bucket full of slime. 

Higgs enjoys, shouts, saliva runs from the sides of the beautiful mouth smeared with semen. The Demens slips his hand, then without difficulty the arm up to the elbow, showing with pride how his outline is drawn through the thin skin of the abdomen of their leader, stirring the bowels stuffed with cum and liquid shit, causing him to struggle unnecessarily like the little lousy pig that he is. First one, then another, everyone takes turns in breaking through the bowels of their boss, enjoying and coming against his ass shamefully open.

When no one has anything left to give, they leave him on the back of the van, lying on his belly and with his thighs open like a frog squashed on a road, his obscenely broken ass that flows relentlessly dripping sperm and shit from a large, disgusting rectal prolapse creeping on the bottom of the rusty vehicle.

The last of them was left with the thankless task of wringing that slimy, filthy appendage out of their leader's ass to make him squirt all the cum he still had inside amid the laughter of his companions. The demens gives one last shrug to the slimy and stinking rectus that has slipped out so he lets it dangle ridiculously with a last humiliating slap that makes it bounce like a piece of rotten meat.

For Higgs it's just routine with the Demens. If only Sam Bridges knew where that bomb had been before he decided to put in his briefcase.

He smiles, closes his eyes. It will take a while before getting back into business.


End file.
